


Penntin

by ArchangelRoman



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Established Relationship, M/M, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:20:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26120299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArchangelRoman/pseuds/ArchangelRoman
Summary: In which Penny and Quentin are established soulmates. And Quentin just might not break down.
Relationships: William "Penny" Adiyodi/Quentin Coldwater
Comments: 4
Kudos: 63





	Penntin

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [clear & quiet](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15753531) by [smallestbird (jenwryn)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jenwryn/pseuds/smallestbird). 



> If you haven't read "clear & quiet" I suggest you do so. This is a continuation of that story from a different perspective but can also stand alone. I credited "jenwryn" as a co-author, but they didn't actually write a single word of this. That being said, a single word of this wouldn't have been written if not for them. So, thanks for granting me permission. Onward to story.

The next morning when Quentin opens his eyes, he must reaffirm his memories, so he looks around to make sure he’s not seeing bleak white walls; checks his pajamas to be sure they aren’t the dull hospital grey. Feels his wrists for chafe marks from straps. When his assessment is complete, he breathes relief and it’s like granting permission for the memories of the night before to flood to the surface: Penny’s hands, Penny’s skin, and Penny’s _mouth._

Holy _shit!_

Quentin looks over to see a shirtless Penny and he can’t help but remember how easy it seemed such a short time ago to reach out and touch. Now, in the light of day with Penny dozing and being the most vulnerable he’s ever been in Quentin’s presence, he seems...foreign. So, Quentin touches with his eyes: Penny is firmer where Quentin himself is soft. Even their personas. Thinking back to their earliest interactions, Quentin realizes is an appeasing type of person whilst Penny does everything with a certain level of aggressiveness; slamming books, slamming doors—hell, slamming _Quentin himself_ against any available surface. How would Penny feel if their situations were reversed? 

The thing is, after last night Quentin _knows_ Penny can be _softer_ with his actions and lack of insults. Penny can be _careful_ with his hands and he can even be _generous_ with his tongue. How the traveler can be both a porcupine and a Care Bear is beyond Quentin... Maybe Alice could figure it out? 

‘m nah sum fuckin bear,’ Penny mumbles sleepily, too tired to have a proper biting tone. Then, a bit softer but just as intelligible, ‘cum cuddle meh.’ 

Huh. So, Penny can switch even in his sleep. Who knew? Quentin follows instructions and makes himself a vice around his soulmate ( _If I_ _hold tight enough, Penny can’t leave’_ ) and they slumber in this state. 

# 

Noon finds Quentin in one of his classes, something about the positioning of the stars and how that might conflict with area of effect spell-work. If Quentin weren’t so bored and getting distracted by Alice’s lovely tits, he might have a bit more of an opinion. As it were, thinking about sex leads back to thoughts of Penny… some real good thoughts. 

‘You weren’t so bad yourself, Coldwater,’ Penny thinks. Even his morning thoughts are tinged with exasperation. ‘Might even be up for that thing with Alice.’ 

Quentin immediately thinks Penny is fucking with him. But he wouldn’t, right? They’d shared _feelings_ and had _revelations_. Hell, they’d just interrelated! Or would it be _‘enter-_ related.’ Yeah, Quentin could see that. The universe or the gods giving him a soulmate as a goof. It could be just a sick cosmic joke that some deity or two— _wait_ _what’s_ _that?_

Penny’s hand homes in like a magnet to the mark on Quentin’s neck, rubs supposed-to-be soothing circles with the pad of his thumb across the words on Quentin in what is supposed-to-be comfort. 

‘Umm...?’ A quick glance confirms that Penny is in fact seated, doing a very good impression of paying attention. Penny is in his head. _'What are you doing?’_

_‘No one is fucking with you, Quentin.’_ Astral-Penny tells him, and Quentin might be distracted in some way or another, but he swears Penny said it like a promise he didn’t intend to make, and yet... Penny’s eyes are closed but his mind is open, spoon-feeding Quentin his perspective of last night. Penny’s fascination with the way Quentin’s body stretches; turns pink and then white at the firmest touches, and the little noises Q couldn’t have been aware he was making whilst his mind, for once, is silent. Penny’s enthusiasm for them together, his _pleasure_ , all laid out on a silver platter as an offering to Quentin. 

Of course, Quentin must analyze this—picks a memory and studies it. It’s the memory of Quentin through Penny’s eyes on their first day together. Quentin remembers the actions he took that day, how the sweater got caught on his nose and he tried not to make a fool of himself. It didn’t work, but he tried... and Penny hadn’t stopped looking. 

The next memory is the dorms; Quentin walking in and craving the sweet comfort of a worn Fillory book but unable to find it because Penny had already taken it—taken something of Quentin's? What does that mean? Does Penny having these feelings mean things are going to change between them? How drastically? Will people treat him differently? Better, even? Or would they start trying to pick on Penny now as well? Oh, God! They are going to make fun of Penny for being eternally bound to such a pathetic magician, and then Penny’s going to beat up Quentin like he used to! 

Then someone is going to curse their mark (it happens, Quentin read it in a book that one time) with the only solution being distance or something like that; driven away from everything and everyone he cares about until he slowly spirals further and further into his lonesome and alienation, until he has another episode. All this before he—or Alice. Probably Alice-- finds the only cure; burning the soul mark from Quentin’s flesh-- 

‘ _Jesus H. Christ, Coldwater! Ugh, I’m not-_ -’ Penny sighs, his hand slips away and right before he fades, he says, ‘ _None of that...shit. Ever. Alright? Nothing is different. I’m still me, and you still struggle way too much with sweaters. Everything is fine.’_

# 

Everything is not fine. 

Quentin gets attacked by a golem; Alice gets haunted by a friend of her deceased brother. Kady is off with political debates and sometimes just straight up battles with the hedge witches while Julia’s trying to study magic and offers to help Kady if she, Kady, teaches Julia proper basics. Meanwhile, Penny’s internal compass is all over the map thanks to some interference at Brakebills and often finds himself walking in circles; Margo and Elliott have apologized and are trying to reverse the disturbance. 

Life goes on. 

Everyone gets their shit together collectively or independently as the situation unfolds. Ultimately after surviving this mini crisis, Elliot and Margo suggest a party. ‘For the survivors,’ Elliot declared, ‘and for the surviving couples to get sloppy and intimate.’ 

That’s another thing! Penny isn’t very intimate. 

That is not to say that he cannot be, but that he isn’t aware of it consciously when he does an intimate thing. When Penny is awake, he is very easily aggravated and snappish. Less so with Quentin these days, but still. There are times Q tries to assist Penny on his bad days. It doesn’t always work, though. Being a traveler means Penny can hit where it hurts using just a few select words, sometimes not even on purpose. He just has so much information that sometimes screams at him to let it out. To Quentin, that’s almost scarier than physical action. 

To be clear, it’s not like Penny is heartless, he can be nice. He just doesn’t know what nice is, exactly. Doesn’t know how “nice” can vary from person to person and how that doesn’t mean you’re losing yourself just because you can adjust to the circumstances. Quentin thinks that Penny thinks being nice is just an advantage, a way to manipulate someone like everyone else tries to do _(_ _I’m_ _fucking psychic, Q! I know what people_ _won’t_ _say!)._ They’ve even argued about it a couple of times, usually ending with Penny blinking away or Quentin angrily storming off _(Well people having thoughts_ _doesn’t_ _make them bad, it makes you a_ _presumptuous_ _asshat!)._

After harsh words or a little argument, Penny would never _say_ sorry, but he would _show_ it. Sometimes it’s just a look, they lock eyes across the way and Penny offers a smile or a hesitant poke at Quentin’s wards. If Quentin’s in a forgiving mood, then Penny would suddenly be _there_ to show Quentin a new spell or help stuff his face with apology-food. The teasing, in these moments, is lighter as well. 

On their rougher days, either can hardly stand to be in the same room as the other. Quentin’s anger makes his wards ice-cold and Penny is more aggressive and reclusive than ever. Literally disappearing when met with someone trying to confront him, turning back to pills to freeze people out of his mind as Quentin froze him. 

# 

It doesn’t take long to realize that even though Penny said nothing was going to change, things are changing. Quentin still doesn’t receive roses or sonnets or ‘shit like that,’ but Penny is always just _there._

When Quentin comes from class after a particularly long day, all he wants to do is lay down whilst he remains afloat on dreary thoughts, but then there is Penny with an open textbook on proper Popper62 technique. 

Quentin’s so caught up in course work or helping his friends that he forgets to eat and comes home with an empty stomach and thoughts of food but no energy to actually _get_ the food let alone make something, but then Penny is there with a sub sandwich and a scowl. Of course, Quentin thinks he’s done something wrong and the only thing that breaks the silence is Q’s stomach growling, prompting him to take a bite and it’s so good he has another and another. He goes to tell Penny thanks but when he looks up, Penny is gone. 

Even this one time, at ass o’clock in the darkness, Quentin couldn’t sleep. Pick a reason, really. He’d decided to indulge in some self-love. Closed his eyes and got lost in a fantasy about Alice, Margo, and Elliot. Just when he’s getting to the good parts, _there’s Penny!_ He comes from the shadows of these active imaginations and when Quentin opens his eyes, _there he is again!_

‘Penny, what’re you—I—Uhm...It’s not what you--’ Quentin’s words choke off at the look Penny is giving him. 

Penny is on his knees on either side of Quentin, also half-naked with sleep rumpled hair. But his eyes are practically burning. At first, Quentin thinks he’s angry that Q would jack off to someone other than Penny (which he has, jacked off to Penny, that is), but that’s not it. 

‘Keep going, Q.’ instructs Penny, not meeting Quentin’s eyes but his body moves then, head bowed and mouth working Quentin like a champion, but somehow still possessive? Doesn’t even comment on the awkward squawk Quentin makes at being dragged from imagination to reality, really, and keeps at it until Quentin is tugging his hair in a warning. 

Penny’s head pops up and then he’s slotting their mouths together, yanking his robe aside and his pajamas down to palm himself in short, quick spurts. Like he’s on the edge but holding himself back, like he’s _waiting_ for something. 

Quentin groans when Penny bites down a little harder on his bottom lip and then he’s spilling over his hand and onto his stomach. Q tries eating Penny’s face as if he were a man starved, but his breathe hasn’t come back so he’s kind of just heavy-breathing on Penny. Distantly Q thinks there’s no way he looks at all attractive like this but a second or so more and then another warm splash, and another, and another paints Quentin’s belly until Penny slumps, breathing hard and still not saying anything. 

It’s something they should talk about, Quentin thinks, but Penny gestures and the mess is whisked away to some unknown place and Quentin still isn’t sure if he is in trouble or not; Penny still hasn’t said anything. 

Quentin tries to start the conversation because the quiet is eating at him and Penny is _still just sitting there_ and doesn’t look to make a move anytime soon. So, Quentin reaches out hesitantly, funnily enough, because he was just trying to eat Penny alive a minute ago, and grasps Penny’s naked shoulder where his robe should have been. It’s right when Q gains some courage that Penny decides he’s collected his thoughts. 

‘I don’t know what you want, Coldwater,’ Penny tells him, but he doesn’t sound like the Penny that Quentin is used to. He sounds so unsure of himself and he’s still refusing to make eye contact. ‘I’m not good with all this feeling shit.’ Penny continues talking to the floor or the bed, but Q gets it. 

Quentin tries to distance himself, hand dropping and sliding back towards the headboard to give Penny all the comfortability of being alone without, you know, being alone. But the moment his back touches the headboard, Penny grumbles irritably and reaches for Quentin, manhandling, twisting and moving until they are situated in an undeniable cuddle position; Penny as the big spoon. 

Quentin falls easily into this, being surrounded by Penny’s broader form—a fucking furnace, really, but it’s nice. With no eye contact but a concrete connection, Quentin feels-- 

‘You good?’ 

‘Uh, I. Yeah, I’m great. You?’ 

‘I’m fucking peachy.’ 

Quentin waits. He’s a patient guy if he says so himself, but Penny isn’t and he can feel the way Penny is holding back--not with his body, they are flushed together-- but with his words and emotions; can’t seem to get them to flow. So, Quentin nudges him a bit, ‘You were saying?’ 

Penny can’t show Quentin the annoyance on his face, but that’s probably for the best; lets the tension in his body ebb away until Q’s thoughts go from frantic worry to a more sedated curiosity. Penny speaks into the darkness over Q’s head. 

‘I will never be a sappy romance kind of guy because no one has ever wanted that from me. A brown kid in Florida was only good for a few things. No Disney-type fru-fru all-is-well happy ending for me. People think being a traveler is some fucking miracle and I guess it is, in a way, but also there’s not much keeping you from the truth. People are toxic and the truth fucking hurts.” 

Quentin’s response is no response, not that he’d need one with the way his thoughts leave a mess over his otherwise tidy dorm. Nights like this, when Quentin craves comfort and proximity, his wards aren’t just sloppy, they are damn near non-existent. Distantly he can feel Penny looking for clues, something Quentin won’t admit and finds that sleep comes a bit easier with Penny’s arm a comforting weight around him and a probe-turned-soothing presence in his mind. An undercurrent of understanding between them. 

# 

The day after that is much, much better. 

Quentin wakes up later with a clear head. 

Penny manages to stay asleep—the very definition of ‘so far so good’. 

Q checks his wards; closed, but slightly leaking. A gesture later and his mind becomes a lockbox and Q is assured Penny can sleep in because Penny deserves love, Quentin thinks. 

The thought came abruptly from somewhere out of left field. Instead of dwelling on it as he normally would, he takes a look at the sleeping bully and is thankful no one is around to see him grin like a loon, and while Q brushes his teeth another thought occurs: 

Penny deserves someone who won’t trip on the barbed wire that is Penny’s defenses and bleed their pain all over him because Penny deserves to be taken care of, damnit. 

Penny deserves way more than Quentin, Quentin thinks, because Penny is... fuck, he’s so many things—too many to name this early in the morning—but he deserves a gift for every facet of his personality he deserves—fuck it, he deserves breakfast in bed. 

When Quentin gets down to the kitchen Elliott is already there sharing mimosas with Josh alongside a breakfast buffet. There's an assortment of eggs and meats, pancakes and pastries and—ooh, Belgium waffles! Pleasantries are exchanged as Q grabs a plate to load and then Elliott asks where Penny is. Naturally Quentin turns red, Elliott smiles devilishly and Josh politely minds his business. 

In the leftover silence Q stares at the plate making sure its presentable. Since it was cooked by someone else, it is. ‘Do we have any flowers?’ 

Josh lights up, tells Quentin all about the numerous flowers that’ll fit the little dish he made. Only one of which they have on hand. 

Quentin takes that one and heads back up. 

Penny is still sleeping and Quentin’s grateful because he wants to present this correctly. The room isn’t a mess but it is a bit untidy and since there is already a warming charm on the food, he hits the tray with a levitation enchantment and cleans up a bit, opens the windows to let some fresh air in. 

‘Penny?’ Quentin coos, almost giddy. When his soulmate doesn’t answer, Q sits gingerly on the bed and places a hand on the mark on Penny’s ribs, feels the heat spread and his own mark answering on the nape of his neck, and then sends waking vibes through that connection. 

Penny’s hand immediately finds Quentin’s on his ribs and gives a light squeeze, but the rest of him follows slowly behind. It’s interesting to watch Penny wake up, Q thinks, because as a traveler he must be hearing voices in his head, unsure of which is his and which is a stranger. 

First Q catalogues a change of breath from automatic to manual; awakened but not risen. Then he notices how Penny's eyes flicker behind his lids—probably finding his own thoughts-- flutter, and then pop open. 

Quentin smiles bigger because Penny is already grumpy! 

The wisps of hair atop Penny’s head have simply given up on trying to remain in a presentable shape, his eyebrows are already in scowling position and mouth already in full pout. Normally Quentin would be incapable of viewing this as anything other than a threat, but today is a good day. 

Today he sees that Penny isn’t scary at all. 

Penny is soft, but hides behind scary faces. His frame is broader than Quentin's and today that means protection, not a trigger. It is an almost astonishing realization for Quentin to come to terms with that fact that he’s always thought of Penny as dark, but that’s not true, because Penny isn’t dark. He’s deep. 

From the color and texture of his skin to the color and texture he wears, all deep. The depth of his eyes almost matches the texture of whiskey, like trying to find the bottom of a bottle but being content you haven’t reached it. 

‘Are you being creepy or romantic?’ Penny asks around a yawn. Penny’s voice is deep as well, Quentin realizes and has the weirdest image of him swimming around in the vibrational waves that is Penny’s voice. Rather than say any of that or respond with words, Q shrugs. 

After rubbing his eyes and taking in the scene, twice, Penny asks ‘Did you...clean?’ and even that sounds annoyed. 

But Quentin doesn’t care. It's one of the rare occasions when everything is just... good. No drugs, no fights, no secrets or backstabbing, no accidents or deaths or accidental deaths or a death caused by somebody elses accident. The world, in this moment, is just right. The air is nice and cool but the temperature is warm and the light streaming through the window lights up the whole room and highlights just how much depth there is to Penny. Quentin hasn’t even scratched the surface. 

Somewhere along the way Quentin must’ve dropped his wards because now Penny’s looking at him as if he can’t decide whether he wants to blink away or continue being the target of adoration. And that would be the first time since Quentin woke that his mood dropped even a little bit. 

As if sensing the change, Penny says, ‘You hungry?’ and makes room. 

Q joins him and they have a lovely moment in bed, only interrupted by Josh for a few seconds to deliver more snacks and mimosas. If asked to describe this moment Quentin would probably say it was one of the clearest and quietest, and most joyous. 


End file.
